Orlando has Disney World with its adjacent “Pleasure Island.” Niagara Falls has the Dragonfly Nightclub, tucked in the bowels of the Fallsview Casino. Maple has Paramount Canada’s Wonderland with a neighbouring Chuck E. Cheese. And now, Toronto’s beleaguered Entertainment District has Circa. Tucked between Hooters (the opening of which portended the area's decline) and the corporately re-branded Scotiabank Theatre lays the entrance to the much anticipated and debated brainchild of nightlife impresario, Peter Gatien. The trials and tribulations of getting the space operational have been discussed ad nauseum, but one big question remains: what is the club actually like? Martiniboys.com went inside to find out.

No longer hidden below scattered power tools and a thin layer of construction dust, the nascent pleasure palace boasts a slick sheen. The plan: a fusion of art gallery, amusement park, and high-end nightclub. Undoubtedly an event destination every clubber or culture-maven must experience it at least once. It remains to be seen whether there are enough repeat revelers to sustain the massively ambitious, 3000 capacity concept.

Leather-clad mannequins hang from stairwell ceilings and photograph-filled light panels stud the walls.

Just inside the front door, a large holding pen helps to avoid street line-ups and their attendant problems. The mob shuffles through an amusement-park-style twisting line-up before reaching a box office that’s backed by fake stainless steel safety-deposit boxes. This area alone holds 300 supplicants; flat-screen plasmas and huge display cases filled with objects d'art to keep them entertained.

The entire complex is decorated according to fluid themes, each lasting six to eight weeks, and starting with "Fetish." To this end, crows in leather gear, perched on withered branches, fill display cases while screens flash clouds and various liquids. For the Fetish theme, Bruce La Bruce has created a series of deliberately provocative photos that up the art ante and will undoubtedly warn 905s that they aren’t in Kansas anymore. For instance, a large close-up of a touqued emo-kid suggestively licking the stub-end of a hockey stick stares provocatively at passersby.

After paying or successfully guest-list schmoozing, a long light tunnel leads to the club proper. Emerging from the passageway, the soaring main room is at last glimpsed, while more cases display art or, for corporate events, product placement. Here, the concierge awaits, herding VIPs and running errands for performers. A large, wrap-around LCD screen keeps track of who is where at any given time.

The washrooms and first bar, necessities after the long hike, are directly ahead. Sitting inside a giant, molded toilet, the bar's walls, floor, and ceiling are all tile, creating a shower-room atmosphere and making spilt drink clean-up a breeze. Provocatively, a glass-walled shower divides the unisex washroom, welcoming exhibitionists and sweaty dancers alike. Don't forget to wash your hands.

The main room boasts a gigantic dance floor and a three-story ceiling. A long bar wraps around a room-length wall and the stage is massive enough to accommodate a touring Broadway show. Suspended from the ceiling, large triangular struts await light-show installation. Playdium's escalator - still functional - rises the full three stories.

Dwarfing the working environment at most clubs, the DJ Penthouse provides spinners with ample elbow and crate room. The booth itself, a metal circle surrounded by leather couches and entourage-holding booths, can hold a team of DJs. Behind the booth, a VIP area surveys both the decks and the dance floor. The Ultra VIP area sits suspended above the floor, encased in a glass cube, holding 10 people, a private bar, and heavy curtains to seal out prying eyes. It's highly visible but entirely inaccessible to the hoi polloi below. All VIP rooms have back-door entrances and a system of elevators and corridors to keep out the riff raff.

Five small bars and a chill out lounge (complete with leather beds) dot the various floors, while a secret niche bar will be unveiled upon opening. The Sauna Bar boasts wooden paneling, apropos gusts of steam and, for the fetish theme, harnessed scuba-girls and a gleaming, life-sized, hammerhead shark with metal teeth. Both are more intimidating than a bevy of burly bouncers.

More interactive entertainment comes by way of the Sensa Cel Bar and adjoining Sensa Cel booths with touch screens and large scale Etch-a-Sketches. Skyy Cinema Lounge has décor directly from an airport as imagined by Stanley Kubrick in the 60s. Hundreds of Skyy bottles cover the walls and their baleful blue gaze can be covered for film presentations. The Ballroom, a glassed-in, pseudo-Victorian space brandishes exposed brick and two-story columns. Both of these spaces can be sealed off from the main room for private events. If you're feeling particularly decadent, the top floor (currently the art department) is being converted into a condo that will provide renters with unfettered access to the club. Your neighbours will by noisy, but water pressure should be great.

Cover charges are being debated. They'll be high enough to exclude the plebs, but not expensive enough to prove prohibitive. Care of Toronto's infamous AD/D crew, Friday's "Random Land" will offer an eclectic mix of styles and sounds with an artistic/Queen West bent. Conversely, Saturday's "Traffic" has a more traditional dance approach, tossing off house in all its myriad permutations, and brought to you by GEM Events (famed importers of big-name DJs).

The arty aspect of Circa, though occasionally disconcerting, is beautifully done. An extremely interactive, fun-filled gallery salutes the artists of Kidrobot. Imagine a Science Centre exhibit, intended as an alcohol-saturated playground and re-imagined by a demented child. Hallways are lined with syringe-embossed mirrors (nervy, considering the charges that Gatien faced in the US) and outstretched mannequin torsos. Leather-clad mannequins hang from stairwell ceilings and photograph-filled light panels stud the walls.

With most nightclubs nailing down anything breakable, Circa has placed a lot of faith in the good behavior or its patrons. It would only take a few of Adam Vaughn's Entertainment District “hooligans” to severely scar the atmosphere and sully the elaborate decor. Circa believes that a strict door policy, a strong security presence and a high-end clientèle will avoid any problems. Are there 3000 high-end club-goers in the GTA? And will they be willing to venture into the Entertainment District on a weekend night? It would be a tragedy if the Circa concept and ambitious plans are diluted to attract a more common element, but a bit more commonality may become necessary to fuel the massive financial requirements.-D.R.